


these small, vicious things

by wavephm



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavephm/pseuds/wavephm
Summary: mazikeen finds the exception to her rule, and comes to a bit of a revelation.
Relationships: Linda Martin/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)
Kudos: 11





	these small, vicious things

**Author's Note:**

> set sometime in season one (maze still works as a bartender) but not really canon-compliant. 
> 
> minor tw for non-graphic depictions of sexual assault and violence, but it's nothing too serious
> 
> please kudos and comment if you enjoyed :)

the first thing mazikeen noticed on earth was the salt. the air tasted heavy and alkaline, thick in her lungs. behind her, the vast expanse of the ocean reached towards the horizon, meeting with the pin-pricked, starry sky; in front of her, lucifer, the light bringer, stood waiting, veiled even on earth by the shadows. the sand stuck to her skin with a pain that reminded her of the red desert she was born upon, pushed from her mother’s belly into the heat of Hell. 

she was shaken from her reverie (a state mazikeen now often found herself in, yearning for a desire that she couldn’t quite remember) by the glasses slammed down in front of her and a slurred demand. it was hot in the bar, and the hotter it was, the more people drank. mazikeen revelled in the heat that seemed to cradle her bones, a familiar crushing feeling that almost felt like home. 

a home that wasn’t her home anymore. mazikeen had followed her lord, her light bringer, her lucifer, to the ends of the earth. she would not abandon him now, not when she had hooked herself deep into his soul and made a home there. demons don’t have souls, after all. they sink their claws into anything they can find, chasing an unattainable dream, and mazikeen was no different.

as mazikeen poured shots of tequila, she debated the cost of gutting the man in front of her, the one with his gaze fixed firmly on her chest. she let the fantasy play out for just a moment, imagined his organs spill out in a bloody mess onto the dirty bar floor, feeling the high of taking a life once more. lucifer had banned that, though. he was similar to his father in that regard; they both had an obsession with these mortals and their pitiful, horrible  _ life _ . 

the man snatched his shots and disappeared into the heaving crowds, tossing a dirty dollar bill behind him, and mazikeen consoled herself with a handful of rock salt. she let the crystals lay heavy on her tongue, leaving an acidic burn down her throat. mazikeen relished the pain, cherished the way it seemed to drag through her insides and lodge deep in her abdomen. 

throwing her apron carelessly onto the counter, she stalked out of the bar, throwing a glare towards the one bodyguard who dared to even look at her (everyone who worked for lucifer knew that, for all of his threats, mazikeen was the dangerous one). letting herself out into the side alley, she took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. the pavement reeked of sweat, a muddled stench so unlike the clean, intimate bite that still sat on the top of her tongue. 

pulling out a pack of cigarettes, mazikeen checked once over her shoulder for anyone that could be watching before lighting the end of one cigarette with the tip of her finger and bringing it to her lips. taking a deep pull, she let the harsh smoke wash away acerbic aftertaste of the salt, smoothing over her sharp ridges before exhaling under the flickering street lamp. 

biting down on the end of the cigarette, mazikeen pulled her phone from her pocket and nonchalantly opened it. to her surprise, she found a single text message, sent four minutes ago from linda.

_ doc _

_ \-- Hey. I know it’s late, but are you at the bar? _

_ \-- I could use a drink _

mazikeen blinked slowly, inhaling as she responded.

_ maze _

_ it’s only 3 -- _

_ of course i’m at the bar -- _

_ tell me when you’re on your way -- _

_ doc _

_ \-- I’m outside.  _

she couldn’t help but smile at linda’s immediate response. it was almost endearing, the way that she could hear the therapist say the words that she texted out loud. stamping out the still-lit cigarette with her boot, she slipped silently back inside the bar, slithering between the heaving masses of the bar to reach linda. she looked worried, mazikeen noticed, twisting a cherry stem between her fingers as she anxiously sipped on her drink.

mazikeen finally stopped behind linda, reaching over her shoulder to take her drink and down the whole thing. linda jumped into her, oblivious at mazikeen’s sudden arrival, and she grinned, teeth sharp and bared. though linda laughed, her eyes remained hollow, fingers drumming nervously on the bartop now that mazikeen had finished her drink. for the first time since mazikeen had known linda, she looked fragile; the way she sat, perched on the edge of the bar stool, reminded mazikeen of lucifer the night she had cut his wings off. linda looked like she was a mere breath away from shattering into pieces, so mazikeen was certain to be gentle as she wrapped an arm around linda’s waist and suggested that they go up to lucifer’s penthouse.

the apartment above the bar seemed to be a different realm. while mazikeen belonged in the club downstairs, fit perfectly in the crush of warm bodies and thumping bass and brackish, bitter pills, linda suited lucifer’s home. she looked like an angel, bathed in the cold blue light that shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and she seemed to relax in the serenity and silence. 

mazikeen shivered as she poured two glasses of a dark bourbon, and she quickly drained one before refilling it and walking quietly over to linda, bringing the bottle with her. they sat there together, and mazikeen patiently listened to the muted beat from downstairs as she waited for linda to speak. finally, after mazikeen had emptied her glass twice over, linda started talking. 

mazikeen had never been one that humans confided in. in short, they didn’t trust her; she was just off the edge of human, something not quite right about her. where lucifer was charming and charismatic (beautiful, mazikeen thought, was a more apt description, beautiful to the point of insanity), mazikeen was harsh and angry. she had heard the whispers, of course, but the foolish rumors that circulated as she carefully maintained the club didn’t bother her. why would the thoughts of some mortal ever concern her?

so, mazikeen was indeed surprised at what went on as linda’s story seemed to spill from her lips, as though she couldn’t stop the words from cascading out of her mouth. she was also surprised when linda grasped her hand some way into her confession, cold fingers digging into her palm. what shocked mazikeen the most was the hot jolt of anger that shot through her as the first tears ran down linda’s cheeks. she was not angry at linda. instead, mazikeen felt a rage that someone had dared hurt linda, hurt  _ her  _ human. 

linda had taken on a case, a woman who had been sexually assaulted and had severe ptsd. the session that linda had with her today had been their first real breakthrough together, and although her patient had left feeling better than she had in months, linda had felt worse. between choked sobs, linda told mazikeen that what the girl had told her about her trauma had unearthed old memories. she held linda gently (despite what those intrusive humans thought , mazikeen was just as much a protector as a hunter), but her rage grew.

all rapists went to Hell. mazikeen knew this with certainty, and she delighted in torturing every last one of them. humans like them, humans who hurt innocent women (humans who hurt linda) deserved pain unlike any they had known before. mazikeen wanted to pull them apart slowly, watch the muscles and tendons as she ripped them piece by piece, let their hearts palpitate and tremble as she carefully, deliberately tortured them. 

she was pulled back into the present, into the cold, dark, blue room as linda retracted herself from mazikeen’s arms and attempted to compose herself. mazikeen found herself missing the soft warmth immediately, wished that linda would come back close again. it was quiet in the room as linda ran her fingers nervously through her hair, platinum strands catching on pale fingers. 

‘i would kill anyone who tried to hurt you, linda,’ mazikeen said quietly, and linda’s eyes snapped over to her. there was a pregnant pause, as if linda was studying the weight of her statement. one moment, they were staring at each other, and the next, linda was in mazikeen’s lap and they were kissing. somewhere on the floor, their glasses shattered, brown spirits spilling across the floor, but mazikeen was enraptured by linda. 

mazikeen had often found joy in the salty, bitter things of earth. she threw back burning shots and snorted powders that left her nose stinging, inhaled smoke that burned deep in her lungs. she scraped her skin on broken glass and gritty sand and scraped her teeth down soft, supple flesh. mazikeen was a demon, and she inhaled every sharp, caustic, burning thing in this realm and  _ laughed _ . 

kissing linda was something different. kissing linda was honeyed and soft, a golden, sticky thing that left her breathless. she smiled into linda’s lips. mazikeen had never liked sweet things, but maybe that could change. after all, a demon needs a soul. 


End file.
